


Part of Me

by HolyCatsAndRabbits



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ficlet, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Scene: Soho 1967 (Good Omens), fixed that for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/HolyCatsAndRabbits
Summary: "You go too fast for me" broke my heart, so I fixed it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 314





	Part of Me

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was written to celebrate having 500 Tumblr followers! I’m so excited and grateful. It’s truly amazing to have a large number of readers for the first time in my life, both there and here on Ao3. So to say thanks, here’s a little canon-divergent 1967 holy water scene. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [HolyCatsAndRabbits](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/holycatsandrabbits)  
> Twitter [@DannyeChase](https://twitter.com/DannyeChase)  
> Facebook [Dannye Chase](https://facebook.com/DannyeChase)  
> and Instagram [dannye_chase](https://www.instagram.com/dannye_chase/)

**Soho, 1967**

Crowley’s sunglasses held the reflection of the lights outside the car while his hands held the means to his own destruction, poured carefully into a tartan flask. The demon sat there, half in the shadows, half lovely in the lights, and offered something in return.  _ “I’ll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go.” _

Aziraphale couldn’t take that, not for this unforgivable gift. But there was something else he needed to give. Aziraphale folded his hands together so that they could only reach toward themselves, and gave this second half as carefully as he could. Because it was no less dangerous.

“There is a part of me,” he said slowly, to the demon always beside him, “that belongs to you.” 

The rest came in a much more anxious rush than Aziraphale had hoped. “And so, you see, if anything—if anything were to happen to you, then I would never be... _ whole _ again. So if you could just please be very careful with— _ that,”  _ —a gesture of his eyes to the flask— “then I would be grateful.”

Crowley didn’t speak. He didn’t move, not even a lifting of curious eyebrows. It was going to be easier this way, Aziraphale realized with relief, the demon shocked into silence, not even repeating the offer of a ride.

Crowley didn’t speak—not until Aziraphale had looked away, finding the door handle with one trembling hand.

“All of me.”

Aziraphale turned back to him in surprise. “What?”

Crowley’s hand was moving now, shaking atop his leg. In a shadowed voice, he breathed, “All of me belongs to you.”

The demon had always been beautiful, sharp angles and long lines, fiery hair and golden stained-glass eyes with pupils sharp as knives. And even with those eyes hidden, it had always been nearly impossible for Aziraphale to see Crowley’s face bear a look of pain.

The angel found his hand sliding gently over the demon’s, just to calm it, that’s what he told himself. But his other hand followed it, and then they folded around Crowley’s fingers and brought them to Aziraphale’s mouth, just trying to reassure Crowley, of course, or maybe to keep Aziraphale’s mouth from saying anything else. But then Aziraphale was crossing the space between them, and his mouth was pressed against Crowley’s  _ mouth _ and then—

Aziraphale had seen Crowley’s mouth in every possible configuration, talking, mumbling, yelling, whispering, smiling, frowning, the angel knew every turn those lips could make, every shape the mouth could take, and so he had always known what this would feel like. He’d known exactly how the give and take of kissing Crowley would go, a new conversation between old friends, lips and mouths moving as always, but finally together and without sound.

Aziraphale had known also that allowing this would open a door that he had bricked up with his bare hands. But now, like this, he wasn’t frightened at all of what was on the other side. Because this was  _ right,  _ holding Crowley, being held. Aziraphale had never been so sure, but Crowley pulled back suddenly, and Aziraphale realized it was because the demon had felt the wetness on Aziraphale’s cheeks. Angel’s tears. Tiny streaks of holy water.

But Crowley gently brushed the tears away with his thumbs, neither of them afraid. The water in the flask was a danger to him. But Aziraphale had never been.

“Someday,” Aziraphale whispered, into the newly filled space between them, “someday, things will be different, and then we…” He grasped Crowley’s hands one last time before finding the door handle again. “But until then, please, never forget that  _ I love you.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are so appreciated. <3


End file.
